


No Promises

by JoAsakura



Category: DCU - Comicverse, The Flash (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-26
Updated: 2009-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura





	No Promises

It was sometime in that dull grey predawn that Trickster woke up, head pillowed on a rickety table.

The manager of this shabby hotel with the guttering neon sign and strung out "long-term occupants" littering the lobby had paid very little attention to the two men badly dressed in goodwill castoffs and holding hands. (And really, since Piper had started a soft little tune as Trickster chatted with the man, he wasn't going to remember either of them anyways)

They spent the next several hours in the dingy little room, armed with little more than a few gadgets, two hand puppets, and their very tired brains, figuring out how to disconnect the handcuffs without frying each other.

James sat back, the thin blanket draped over his shoulders slithering to the floor. "Piper?" He looked around, rubbing at his eyes, the sound of water running finally registering on him.

Piper was in the shower, head down, water beating on his head and shoulders, hands pressed against the grimy tile. He hadn't bothered with the shower curtain.

"Piper? You should be asleep." Trickster heard himself rasp, sleepy. He rubbed his face again, peeling off his mask and scratching absently at the adhesive.

"Hmmh." Piper muttered, turning his head slightly. Green eyes peered over his arm. "Well. Figured when I woke up, you'd probably be on your way somewhere else, and I think I can deal with things better when I don't smell like the ass end of a dumpster."

"Huh." Trickster said in response, leaning back against the doorframe. Really, there was nothing he could say to that.

"What are *you* doing up? Did I wake you?" Piper asked, head dropped under the water again.

"Uh? No. A man's shackled to someone for a while, gets kinda lonely when he wakes up alone." He answered, and the two chuckled softly together for a moment. "Hart, is there even any soap in there?"

Piper reached over and waved something tiny at Trickster. "One of those tiny hotel sample bars of Lifebuoy. I think it's older than either one of us, but I'm not going to complain."

James nodded for a second before closing the short gap to the shower. "Give it here. Can't adequately wash your own back." Piper looked at him again and made a small, resigned sound.

"Fine, here. I don't have the energy to argue with you right now." He handed off the little bar and rolled his eyes at Trickster's triumphant grin. "You are such an ass."

"That, Piper, is no way to talk to the person washing your back." He said lightly as he scrubbed. "Besides, after having dealt with the whole 'going to the can' issue while we were stuck together, this isn't exactly shocking."

"You're still in costume, you know. You're getting soaked." Piper muttered.

"So I am." James snorted lightly, peeling off his shirt. It landed on the faded linoleum with a pathetic splat. "Ass end of a dumpster? No more hanging around Rogues for you young man. Such language."

This time, Piper didn't chuckle and Trickster stilled his hands, leaving them to rest on his friend's shoulders. "Hart.."

"It's nothing." Piper said softly before straightening. "Hey, let me get out of your way so you can shower up." He glanced over his shoulder when James' hands stayed where they were. "James..?"

"..You're not in the way." James answered absently. "It's not your fault."

Piper's shoulders stiffened. "Don't. Don't, ok? I can't handle it when you're acting serious."

"For god's sake, Hartley. You didn't kill him." The old plumbing rattled and the shower sputtered before the water turned icy cold. There was a lurch and a tumble of limbs as they both jerked out of the way, Trickster's back thudding against the wall of the shower cubicle as he fell on his behind.

He looked down at Piper, who was in the process of disentangling himself from James, the cold water still coming down on them. "Hartley's a really stupid name, yanno?" He joked feebly.

Piper sighed. "I was named by a guy called Osgood." James didn't make any effort to let him go, and after a moment Piper stilled against him. "Look.. James.." he whispered. Piper's shoulders were shaking, and Trickster knew it wasn't entirely the cold water.

"Shut up, Piper." It was the Very Serious FBI Agent Face that James was wearing at the moment. "I'm not making any promises. That I'll always be here for you or anything like that. But we're in this together for as long as we are." He tightened his arms around his friend and he felt Piper's fingers splay out against his chest. "It's not your fault, Hart. You tried to stop them."

He pressed a kiss, brief and fierce to the top of Piper's head. "Wally would understand. He'd know you tried."

Piper's shoulders shook again and then stilled. "I've been so lonely." he said, muffled by Trickster's shoulder. "I should have never.."

"What did I say about shutting up?" James dipped his head to look at Piper's, and what started out as a press of lips to Piper's forehead, evolved into a kiss that was equal parts need and misery. When it ended, they stared at eachother for a long moment.

"Water's freezing." Piper said solemnly.

"Don't want either of us dying of pneumonia." Trickster replied, getting to his feet and grabbing a sandpapery towel. "We have to plan our next move."

Piper took the towel. "I guess.. we.. do."


End file.
